My Soldier
by GodlyJewel
Summary: It's Veteran's Day, and the Stark family is throwing a party to celebrate a certain super solider and his fellow veterans. Steve is flattered but there is only one person he wants to see. However, Greta doesn't feel like celebrating. She can't be around people today. She wants to be left alone, but being alone is nerve a good thing. Sometimes you need a strong shoulder to cry on.
1. Chapter 1

**AN:** I swear, I'm gonna skin these plot bunnies alive. This is what happens when I'm driving home from work, listening to Carrie Underwood. Rawr! I have too many other fics to update and they do this!

Okay, ranting over. This story is dedicated to the fabulous CosmicHorse, and her _Lost Voice_ series. Thanks again for letting me write Greta, Cosmic. She's such a fun character, and I hope I'm doing her justice in this fic.

* * *

 **My Soldier**

 **Chapter 1**

"Just A Dream"— Carrie Underwood

 _The church doors opened. The whole room quieted as Greta entered the room. She stood still for a moment, waiting for the preacher to give her the signal._

 _At her side stood her mother. She noticed Elsa had her hair pulled back into an elegant bun, wearing a black silk dress, short gloves and matching pumps. Greta was surprised she had chosen something so plain for such an event, save for the birdcage netting Elsa wore in place of her jewelry. Tears were beginning to form in her eyes, yet Elsa held them back. Though whether to show strength in front of her daughter or fear of her mascara running, Greta did not know. Surprisingly, Elsa took her daughter's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. She gave her a small, sad smile before giving her one last check over._

 _It all seemed impossible. Here she was, getting ready to walk out in front of her friends, and those she considered family. Many she knew from living on the base. They had helped raise her whenever her father was on duty. She considered them like second fathers, uncles and older brothers. She gained encouragement seeing the familiar uniforms._

 _Looking out at the seating, Greta barely held back a sob as she spotted her best friend among the crowd. Beside Lithia were Tony and Pepper, and on the other side sat Loki and Evangeline. She was surprised they were here. Something was off but she pushed it to the back of her mind. The sound of music drew her back. She wouldn't allow this unexpected situation to distract her. She could figure out how everyone got there later; she still had to make it down the aisle._

 _The song signaled it was almost time. She remembered watching others walk down this very aisle. They had kept their calm as the neared the alter, some even braved the walk alone._

 _She was ready._

 _Elsa went first, her head held high to preserve her sophisticated appearance. She carried two long stemmed roses in hand, deep crimson intertwined with ivory white. She walked between the two lines of officers before she reached the alter. She placed her flowers down and was handed a small parcel before she turned around to join the others. When she took her seat, it was Greta's turn._

 _The young girl took a deep breath and had one last look down the aisle. Greta felt her heart flutter, already feeling the tears burning in her eyes, but she held them back. She never cried. At least, not when she still had control. And she wasn't about to loose it now. She would not cry. She just had to make it to the end. It would not last long. The pastor would say a few words and then it would be over. Then, then she could cry._

 _Greta started to walk, her feet crunching dead leaves along the path. She looked down. In her hands she held a beautifully carved wooden box sealed by a golden lock. Over that, she also carried a bouquet of dark crimson roses, poppies, and sweet pea._

 _She heard the trumpets from the military band as she reached the end. She looked up and saw the pastor standing behind the alter. She prepared herself for the next part. She turned to look back at the crowd one more time. Everyone had their heads bowed as the room filled with a deathly silence. The only face she saw was that of her mother. The tears finally were allowed to fall from her while her arms gripped tighter on the folded flag pressed to her heart._

 _Greta turned back to the stage. Her eyes rested on the dark oak surrounded by flowers. She knew what, whom laid inside. She knew what would meet her sight if she opened the lid, already seeing him with her mind's eyes._

 _First, she saw his uniform, then the bandages to cover the wounds. The wounds that not only would never heal, but had also been the cause of death. The face completely mummified. She knew beneath the bandages was a face that would never again smile when she came home. Never again would she see eyes that burned fire at the acceptance of a challenge. And never again would the gruff, gentle voice tell her he loved her._

 _She opened her eyes to look at the coffin. Surrounding it were small photo frames displaying images of the past. She smiled when she caught one of a little girl with chocolate curls laughing as she sat perched upon the shoulders of a tall officer. Beside him was a blonde woman, giving her husband a kiss on his cheek as she held a banner that read, "Welcome home!"_

 _Choking back a sob, Greta set the box in front of that picture. Then she pressed two fingers to her lips before placing them against the frame._

 _"Goodbye Daddy…"_ _Turning to place down her bouquet, Greta caught a glimpse of something out if the corner of her eye. She knew what she would see. Once she turned, she would stare into a photo of those familiar eyes one last time._

 _However, when she turned it was not the face she expected. In place of burgundy hair and amber eyes, the image held blond hair combed back and bright blues stared back at her. The flowers dropped from her hand._

 _"No…"_

 _Greta turned to see the pastor standing beside her. In his hands lay another folded flag. He held it out to her. "It's time. Please take your seat beside your mother."_

" _No, this isn't right!" Greta stepped back. Her eyes frantically scanned the pictures. She gasped. They had all changed!_

 _In place of her father another man stood. Some of the photos were black and white, while more recent showed the man in various places: standing by the Avengers on the Helicarrier, another at Evangeline's last birthday party. Many of the pictures showed the soldier in his iconic uniform. One picture, taken on Halloween. She nearly cried when she saw the one of him standing beside her in her high school prom dress. The last one showed her and the man at a fifties themed resultant sharing a milkshake._

 _Greta startled when a hand touched her shoulder. She turned to find the pastor looking at her. "My dear, we need to begin," he told her, holding the folded flag to her once more. "Please, take your seat."_

 _Greta slowly stepped back, one foot off the stage. She looked out to the sea of faces, but they all remained frozen._

" _Someone tell me what's going on!" she shouted."Mom? Mom!" She looked around and spotted her mother had also become still._

 _Only silence answered her._

" _What is wrong with you!" Fear was slowly creepy its icy fingers around her heart. She glanced back at the coffin._

 _"This isn't happening…"_

 _Greta leapt over the flowers and placed her hands on the lid. She had to see the body for herself._

 _She threw back the lid, revealing the corpse inside._ _Her eyes fell on the face. It was completely wrapped in bandages, concealing the dead man's identity. That would have eased her, but the sight of the decade old uniform made her doubt. Slowly, Greta raised her hand to remove the gauze, but she hesitated. Someone from the audience shouted at her to stop, but that was the push she needed._ _She ripped the bandages off, revealing the face of the soldier._

 _Steve Rogers._

 _A scream tore from her throat._

" **NO!** " Greta woke with a start. Her heart was beating rapidly. There was a cold sweat on her brow. When she managed to get her pulse back under control, a single tear fell from her eye. Despite the twist at the end, she had relived this dream before for what seemed like a hundred times. It meant only one thing.

It was Veteran's Day.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Soldier" — Gavin DeGraw

"Let's put those streamers up here," Pepper said, gesturing to the banister. "And maybe put a table here for drinks and snacks."

"What about a chocolate fountain here?" Lithia suggested, pointing to an empty corner.

"This is lame!" Tony complained. "Veteran's Day isn't even a real holiday."

"Wrong! It's a day to remember those who fought to defend out country, so show some respect," Pepper said, looking over the checklist again. "Lithia and I just thought it would be fun to have a little party with a couple friends. _You're_ the one who had to go and make a a big spectacle of it, remember?"

"I mean, honestly, you invited how many people?" Lithia asked, putting her hands on her hips.

"Just a few…thousand…" Tony muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

Lithia smacked her forehead with her palm. She was about to remark when Steve entered the house. "Hey Spangles," Tony said with a tiny wave.

"Good to see you too, Tony," he greeted. "Pepper, Lithia. Always a pleasure."

"Hi Steve!" Lithia smiled.

"Well, thank goodness," Pepper said. "I hoped S.H.I.E.L.D. wouldn't have you on call so we would have our guest of honor."

"I still don't understand why you insisted on that. This day is meant to celebrate the service of all U.S. military veterans. I'm no different than the other men and women who served this country."

"Oh, hush!" Pepper scolded. "We all know that, but you are kind of a legendary veteran. Either way, we're gonna celebrate."

"Rhodey and his friends are coming too," Lithia added. "So there'll be plenty of people to share the spotlight. At least we're not making you do your 'Man with a Plan' song and dance."

Steve chuckled as he recalled the degrading performance. Not something he wished to relieve. "Thanks, I appreciate that. So, anything I can do to help?" he asked.

"Could use a hand getting these banners up," Pepper said, grinning over her shoulder at Tony. "Really needs a _strong man's_ touch."

"Hey!"

Steve laughed. "Sure. Anything to help." He walked over as Tony glared at him. "Say, where's Greta?" he asked. "I thought she'd be here helping you set up."

"Cap's gotta point," Tony stated. "Her dad was military, and she loves whenever we have an open bar. You heard any word from her, Lith?"

Lithia was quiet. She continued setting out cups and plates, trying not to look at anyone. "Hey, kid, don't leave me hanging," Tony joked.

"Sorry. I just, well, I don't think Greta will be coming," she answered.

"Why not?" Pepper asked.

Lithia bit her lip, her eyes glancing to the side. "How to put this… Steve, you remember when Greta had you drive her up to Molly's grave?"

"How could I? You were pretty upset with her," he answered. "You yelled at her electronically, and in your own voice."

"Right. Well, that's kinda how today is for Greta. She always gets weird around Veteran's Day, and Memorial Day. She and her dad were supper close and his death hit her hard, even more than when I lost Molly. So she prefers to be by herself unless there's something fun to do, like going out for the Memorial Day sales. Though I've never ask her to do anything for Veteran's Day before."

"Maybe she and her mom have something special they do together," Pepper suggested.

Tony snorted. "Yeah, because Greta has talked about how much she and her mom _get along_."

"In any case, you at least invited her to the party, right Lithia?" Pepper asked.

"Well, yes… No…maybe?" Lithia scratched her head. "Wait, Tony put J.A.R.V.I.S. in charge of sending out invites."

 _"_ So I assume I am to blame, then?" the digital voice replied.

"No…but I did say invite everyone," Tony stated.

"Of course, sir. Though it was my understanding that Ms. Greta did not declined the invitation. Merely, she never gave a confirmed reply as to her attendance."

"Then maybe she'll just be a little late," Steve suggested.

"Let's give it some time," Pepper suggested. "The party doesn't start for awhile. Maybe she'll show up then."

 _Maybe…_ Steve thought. "Here, let's finish decorating."

 **XXX**

 _An hour later…_

The party was in full swing. All of Tony's friends showed up, Rhodey and some others, all of the Avengers, and even some S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were there. There was music, dancing, and muck drinking. The only thing missing was a certain chocolate haired girl with large, black rimmed glasses.

Steve lounged next to the bar, his drink remaining untouched. His eyes wondered the party but always came back to the front door.

"Staring at the door won't make her appear." He turned to see Lithia smiling up at him. "Have you tried, I don't know, calling her, maybe?" she asked.

"A few times," he admitted, "but she hasn't answered. I've tried both her cell and her apartment number, and gotten no reply."

"Huh, that's not like Greta. Usually, she at least answers when I ring her cell."

"I have a feeling something's off."

"Hmm…if she's not answering her cell, and if you've been getting her answering machine, then maybe on a whim she is at Elsa's house," Lithia suggested. "Loki is watching Evangeline, and everyone else seems preoccupied. If you want, we can run over and see."

Steve smiled. "You know, that's not a bad idea."

 **XXX**

Steve and Lithia took the motorcycle up to the Carthrow house. Once they parked the bike, they walked up to the front door. It appeared that no lights were on, but Elsa's car was in the driveway, indicating there were occupants at home.

Lithia knocked on the door. "Don't worry, this'll work."

"I hope you are right…" Steve whispered as the door finally opened. They were greeted by a woman with sullen eyes.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"Oh, hi," Lithia said. "We were just wondering if Greta was here."

"Sorry but she is not," the woman replied.

"Oh, okay…" she asked. "Uh, well then, did Mrs. Carthrow take her somewhere?"

"Lithia, not to be rude, but I am standing right here. So obviously I haven't taken her anywhere."

Both Steve and Lithia were shocked. The woman before them looked nothing like the high fashioned socialite they had met on previous occasions. In place of designer clothes and expensive jewels, Elsa wore a humble long sleeves knit dress and slippers. Her maple brown hair was pulled back in a low, loose bun and all makeup was cleared from her face. Her cheeks were streaked with dried tear marks and her eyes were rimmed red. Lithia thought she looked like a train wreck.

"I, um, I'm… uh…" she stuttered.

Luckily, Steve was at her rescue. "What Lithia is trying to say is that we did not recognize you, Mrs. Carthrow. Has something happened?"

Elsa shook her head. "Just that time of year again," she said. "Greg liked it better when I wore little make up. I try to make it a habit of wearing none today."

"Greg? You mean Greta's father?"

"Yes. They were very close." Elsa then become more sorrowful. She sighed and addressed them both. "Look, I know what you're thinking, but don't go looking for her today," she said. "This is the one day Greta spends time with her father, so please, let them be. I will let her know you stopped by and she will call you tomorrow." Without another word Elsa disappeared back inside, a loud _click_ indicating she had locked the door.

"Well, that didn't answer anything," Steve said.

"No but sure as hell raised a whole lot more questions."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

Lithia frowned. "For one thing, Elsa called her Greta instead of Gretal. She almost NEVER calls her that. Something about it not being proper for a young lady, or whatever," she explained. "Second, she said she was spending the day with her dad."

"Maybe she went to his grave…" Steve suggested.

"Doubtful. They had his body cremated and spread the ashes. No, something tells me Greta may not want to be found."

"Maybe you're right."

Lithia put a soft hand on his shoulder. "Hey, let's go back. I'm sure they haven't cut the cake yet."

Steve sighed in agreement. He followed Lithia back to the bike. However, he planned to continue searching after dropping her at the party. He needed to talk to Greta.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"You Can Let Go" — Crystal Shawanda  
"Break On Me" — Keith Urban

Greta looked out over the water, her feet buried in the sand. The beach was filled with a few families there to watch the fireworks, but from where she was sitting, she could be away from the crowds. There was a case of Michelob AmberBock on her right and a bottle of Pinnacle Citrus vodka on her left. All she had to do now was watch the sunset and she would have done everything on the list.

That morning, after letting the terror of her nightmare wash over her, she dressed in army pants and boots with a gray camo shirt, and then cooked herself a breakfast of her dad's favorite meal: eggs and kielbasa with hot sauce. She greeted her mom and the two sat down in the theater room to watch a few home movies.

The first tapes showed a few with Greta's parents before she was born. She watched the day her father proposed in the middle of Central Park with his whole battalion working to make it memorable. Then it jumped to two months later of her parents exiting the Court House as husband and wife, riding off in her father's jeep toward the airport. The next shot showed her dad sneaking up on her mother, surprising her as he returned home from Dessert Storm. Looking over, Greta spotted her mother dabbing her eyes.

The next tape showed her mother lying in a hospital bed. It was probably the worst Greta had ever seen Elsa. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her hair was plaster to her head with sweat. She looked on the brink of exhaustion while a hardy chuckle was heard in the background. The Elsa on the tape glared up at the camera as her husband began to narrate.

 _"Well, it's been forty-eight hours but you did it, Ellie."_

 _"I swear, Greg,"_ Elsa moaned. _"Get that damn camera out of here. I'm tired, sore, and I look like hell, and I'm about ready to tear you balls off for doing this to me!"_

 _"Still the most beautiful woman I ever saw."_ Greg chuckled. _"And all the sexier when she shows that wild, hellcat side over Miss Prim and Proper."_ Elsa threw something at him but the camera caught her small smile. At that moment, the nurse walked in with a small pink bundle. Elsa features softened and she smiled as the nurse placed the baby in her arms. _"Oh Greg, she looks just like you,"_ she said with a smile full of tears.

The camera shook and suddenly Greg was in the shot. He sat down on the side of the bed, throwing one arm over Elsa's shoulder and placing a kiss to her forehead. He looked down at the baby in her arms.

 _"So, you ready to be a father?"_

 _"Hell no!"_ He laughed, his eyes never leaving the baby. _"But long as I have you two, I think I can wing it."_

 _"Well, here."_ Elsa passed the baby over to him. _"Might as well start by saying hello to your daughter."_

Greta and Elsa watched as Greg took his daughter in his arms. Tears sprang to his eyes. _"Hey baby girl. I know I ain't much to look at, but I'm your daddy. Now, I can make you a couple promises. One, I'll make sure you're momma doesn't turn you into a frilly daffodil."_ Greta and Elsa both laughed as the younger Elsa slapped her husband's arm.

 _"Okay, okay,"_ he continued. _"If that's what she wants, fine, but I'm hoping not."_ Greg turned back to his tiny bundle, a warm smile on his face. _"And another thing I can promise is that no matter how far away I may be, or if you're embarrassed—cause I'm gonna embarrass you, especially in front of boys—I'm always gonna protect you, and love you so much."_

From there the videos began to drift over the years. Most were of Greta: learning to ride a bike, her first (and only) pageant; the first time she handled a rifle, and another where her father won a pingpong ball tournament. Then they came to final video. Greta felt the tears sting her eyes when the video played of their last family trip. Her mom had made reservations at some formal restaurant, so of course they had to dress properly. Her father looked handsome in his tux while Elsa and Greta each wore a beautiful evening gown. Her dad managed to sneak in a camera, so the video had opened with both Elsa and Greta complaining while Greg denied everything. Then Greta watched as her father took the hand of her fourteen-year-old self and walked to the dance floor while "My Baby Girl" played in the background.

After that, Elsa went to her room with a large photo album in hand. Meanwhile, Greta took a bus down to the base and hung out with her dad's old buddies. They played a few rounds of Pool, Poker and Bullshit before the guys got out all the fixings for Greta to serve up some of her dad's famous brisket sandwiches. After that, she walked down to the shore to a place her dad always loved. It was his favorite spot to watch the boats and view the setting sun. It had also been the place where he had asked Elsa out the first time, and where they would watch fireworks as a family. And it was where his ashes were spread, five years ago.

Greta closed her eyes, the memory hurting like opening an old wound. She cracked open an AmberBock bottle and held it toward the sky.

"Happy V-day, Dad," she saluted before taking a long swig of the dark lager. It burned her tongue and throat, but she swallowed it.

She sat there watching the sky darken. It was not until she was finishing the third bottle when a load thunder interrupted her thoughts. Turning around, she spotted a black Harley park just a few feet away from her. She sneered as the rider got off and began walking toward her. She turned back toward the sky.

"Jut turn around and go back before I ruin that pretty bike."

"Thought you might be here," Steve said. He sat down beside her. "Best place to see the show. Even better at Stark's place. Thought you might wanna come."

"Sorry, Soldier, but I'm not really in a party mood."

"I noticed." He gently took the bottle from her hands, grateful when she didn't protest. "Do you want me to give you a ride back home, or should do you really want me to leave?" he asked. "I understand if you want to be alone."

Greta shrugged. "I'd say bullshit but you probably do," she replied. "Part of me also thinks I should cuss you out for coming here. Then I think this is karmic punishment for stepping on Molly's grave."

Steve barely withheld a smile at the memory. Greta was not laughing though, reminding him that she needed support if she wouldn't even smile at her own zinger. "Death isn't easy to deal with, especially when it's someone you were close to. I felt the same way when I lost Bucky. He was my best friend. He followed my lead, and I led him right to his death. Then I find that one day I've woken up in a whole new time, only to find out everyone I know is either old or dead."

"But that's totally different!" Greta argued. "You were on a mission. In battle, you can never predict the outcome, no matter how much you plan and prepare. All you can do is give it all you got and then some more, just praying the Man Upstairs lets you come home."

"That doesn't stop the guilt."

"No, but you can't take the blame for what happened," Greta said. "Would Bucky let you talk like that?"

"No." Steve smiled thinking of his old friend. "He'd say something like 'Get over it. I'm with you to the end of the line, like always,' and then he'd punch my shoulder."

"See? So quit beating yourself up for it. That emotional scar is seventy years old, Soldier. Time to let it be."

"What about you, Greta?" Steve said, turning to look her in the eye. "What about your scars?"

Greta turned her eyes to the sea. "That's a little harder for me. I know, I'm probably being hypocritical or whatever, but it's still difficult. Dad was the strongest man I'd ever known. He was tough, brave, and whipped his battalion into shape." She smiled. "Funny. You were his inspiration."

"Me?"

"Well, yeah." Greta laughed. "Sorry Steve, but remember? You were around when my dad's dad was in the military. Actually, Granddad was part of the group you rescued from Hydra. He got caught in the crossfire during your breakout, and was sent home with a Purple Heart."

"Really?"

"Really. I remember how Granddad would tell it." Greta cleared her throat and covered one eye. "Quite a sight, little nipper," she began, picking up one of the empty bottles and swinging it around. "This son of a gun goes jumping into fire in these red and blue pajamas carrying some sort of fancy shield like some kind a loon. He was nuttier than a Christmas fruitcake, and dressed like it too, but that crazed fool got every single one of us out of that hellhole."

Steve actually laughed. "I always knew that outfit made me look like a performing monkey. Though it made the bad guys hesitate, making it easier to knock them out."

She smiled, setting the bottle aside. "See? It was because of you Granddad could come home to my grandma just as my dad was born," Greta continued. "He always wanted to thank you, but he never got the chance. So he'd tell that story to Dad every night. And when Dad heard how you pulled off that rescue, he wanted to be just like you. You know, minus the costume. He preferred wearing the uniform with the rest of his men."

"No complaints there," Steve said. He was glad she seemed to be happy again.

Greta smiled as she recalled some memories of her dad. "I remember when he would come home and tell us all about training, or whatever he had to do while he was away. But no matter what, he always made time for me. Teaching me how ride a bike and hand-to-hand combat. Showing me how to use a gun, how to dance and enjoy it, and how to drink without getting hungover. He was the kind of man a daughter feels so lucky to have, and who loves so much it hurts…"

"You know, I don't think I've ever heard you talk this much about your dad before," Steve said. "It's nice. I feel like I'm getting to know him a little better."

"Yeah…" She took off her glasses and wiped a tear from her eye. "H-He was great. You and him, you would've gotten along. I wish you could've met him before he…he…"

"Greta?" Steve moved closer to her. He tried to place a hand on her shoulder, but she pushed him away.

"It was supposed to be our day," she said, hooking her glasses onto her shirt. "Dad thought it'd be great to take the bike because it was real nice out. We were on our way to a museum and there was construction going on, making the roads hard to navigate for the cars. Then some idiots drag racing try to beat a red light. I remember the car hitting us in the side and Dad reaching for me. The next thing I know, I'm waking up in an ambulance with a heart monitor beeping in my ear. I could see the EMT's working on my dad, and I cried out for him, but I was strapped down. His face was covered in gauze, his whole body soaked in blood, and he…he just…"

Greta sighed and leaned back to prevent the tears from falling. She took a breath to calm herself, but it was a struggle for her to talk. "The fire was gone from his eyes," she choked out. "He just looked at me and…and h-he…" She covered her eyes as her teeth bit into her lip. _Darn it,_ she thought. _Why'd he have to be here when I'm at my breaking point?_

"The doctor said I lived because Dad threw me before the bike rolled. But he got pinned when the car…" Greta stood. She grabbed one of the empty bottles and chucked it into the ocean. She screamed, tears streaming down her face. "My dad was a fighter! He shouldn't have gone out like that! I was in that accident too! But he's gone and I'm still here. I-It's not fair!"

Steve walked over to her but he didn't touch her. Greta wiped at her eyes, but the tears continued to fall anyway. She was trembling at this point.

"I-I didn't even get to say goodbye, you know? The last thing he said to me was, '…love you baby girl…' Like, he knew he wasn't gonna make it, but…but he wanted to let me know I was going to be okay. H-He was still trying to be-to be strong…f-for me… And I couldn't even, I couldn't…"

"Greta?"

She opened one eye just as Steve pulled her into his embrace. She struggled as he pressed her to his chest, keeping one hand on the back of her head and the other on her back. His arms held her tightly. The steady beating of his heart become a rhythmic sound in her ear. Finally, she stopped. She couldn't fight it any longer. Her arms came around him and Steve had to tighten his hold as her legs gave out.

"I miss him so much," she whispered, tears now soaking his shirt.

Steve didn't say a word or even look at her. He just let her cry.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"Angel" — Sarah McLachlan

"Would you tell me where we're going?"

"That'd ruin the surprise."

"Seriously, what is it?" Greta grabbed Steve's arm. "Come on! First, you make me change, then call in a favor with Tony to fly us out on his private jet to who-knows-where and now you won't even tell me where we're going?! A girl needs to know these things."

Steve laughed and placed his hand over hers. "Just be patient. Everything will be clear once we land."

"That won't help since you blindfolded me." Greta smirked as she touched the silk scarf. "You know I can just untie this."

"And yet you're still wearing it."

Her nose wrinkled. "You're getting a kick out this, aren't you?"

Steve laughed and squeezed her hand. After the beach, he knew Greta needed something to cheer her up. When she had calmed, he had gotten a brilliant idea that was sure to bring back her smile. He made a quick call to Lithia. Luckily, she was able to get Tony on board and pull a few strings in order to make his plan succeed. She even suggested using a blindfold to keep the whole thing a surprise. Steve was grateful for her suggestions, especially when Pepper and Lithia had found an outfit for Greta, and had even helped her dress. Now all he had to do was keep her pacified until they landed.

Greta drummed her fingers on the table. She didn't care for surprises but she was curious to find out what he planned. If she had it her way, she would be on her way home to fall asleep listening to her dad's Sinatra records. Instead she was blindfolded, forced into a freaking dress, and being kidnapped by her super soldier crush. If it had been anyone other than Steve, she probably would've roundhouse-kicked them where the sun don't shine and been on her way. Okay, maybe not with Lithia. Still, she couldn't get one thing off her mind. Where was he taking her?

When the plane landed, Greta was itching to rip the blindfold off. Her hand reached for the scarf, but Steve squeezing her other hand prevented her from doing so. Apparently, she was to remain in the dark for a little bit longer. She followed his lead, from walking out of the plane to a car ride, and finally into a building. She could hear the lull of scattered conversations, while an intoxicating aroma of something delicious caught her attention. She was trying to identify it when Steve stopped.

"Reservation for Rogers," he said.

"Ah yes, right this way, sir. Uh, the young lady?…"

"It's fine. This is a surprise for her."

"Oh, very well then. If you follow me, I will take to your seats."

 _Oh, so we're at a restaurant_ , Greta thought, letting Steve continue to guide her. The way must have been cleared because she never ran into a table or chair as they went. When the stopped again, Steve released her hand and helped her into the seat.

"You're waiter will arrive shortly." Greta listened as the man walked away before turning her attention to her date.

"You can remove it now."

"Oh, really? I was just starting to to get used to this."

Steve laughed. "Trust me, I think you'll want to see this."

Rolling her eyes, Greta reached up for the scarf. "We'll see about that, Soldier," she teased.

With the blindfold removed, Greta couldn't wait to see where she had been whisked off to. She was not disappointed. The whole room felt as though they had travel back in time, or at the very least, transported to a page of a Jane Austin novel. Elegant dinning wear, carved wooden chairs with plush seats, and paintings adorning the walls. There was even a roaring fireplace.

"So you're surprised?" Greta turned back to find Steve, in a suite, smiling at her. "I read reviews that this was the best place for a unique experience," he said. "Comfortable setting, wonderful food, and it offers a unique experience that is sure to impress."

Greta smirked. "Did you memorize that?"

Steve smiled and looked away, a little bashful. "I may have read the webpage a few times on the plane… Tony recommend the restaurant and he sent me the information."

"Aww, that's adorable." Greta took another look around the room. "Well, I'll admit, I don't usually go for this sort of thing but I'm impressed. This place is amazing."

"It's charming, though I think you put it all to shame."

Greta caught him gazing at her and remember Pepper and Lithia had blind dressed her before they left. Looking down, she couldn't believe what she was wearing. Her casual attire had been upgraded to a pleated beaded-belt chiffon high to low dress. The pale gold color matched the open toe heels adorning her feet. She grabbed a spoon from the table to check what else had been done. Hair fluffed and tousled into a messy updo, some diamond studs, and even a little makeup. She didn't look bad, considering she'd been blindfolded the entire time.

"Whoa! Pulling out all the stops, huh?" she teased, setting the spoon down. "Seriously, what's the occasion?"

"Can't I take one of my favorite girls out without needing a reason?"

"Oh, I'm one of your girls?" she asked. "Just how many girls do you have to yourself, Mr. Rogers?"

"I don't have, what I mean is … I, uh…"

"I'm kidding, Steve," Greta said, placing a hand over his. "I know you have a mega fangirl base, and don't think I forgot about Peggy. I know she'll always be your best girl."

Steve grinned. "Well, aside from that, I also thought taking you out might cheer you up."

"Yeah, I was a mess, wasn't I?" Greta admitted, her cheeks blooming a deep pink. She still couldn't believe she had done that in front of him. Talk about embarrassing. But in a way, it had really helped. Knowing she could be that open with him. She hadn't been that way with anyone since her father. It was nice.

"Okay, okay. Now quit stalling," she said, bring back the topic. "You said you had news so spill!"

"All in good time," Steve replied, picking up the menu. "Let's have a little dinner and talk for a bit. I hear the monkfish is pretty good."

The talked for a little bit before the waiter arrived. Steve couldn't help the sheepish look on Greta's face when she asked if he'd like the Red, White & Blue soft, raw cow milk. He politely declined and ordered the roasted chestnut soup instead. For the second course, they shared some Alba White Truffle Risotto. Deciding to skip the monkfish, Greta and Steve each chose Rack of Colorado Lamb and Cervena Venison Loin for the third course. While they ate, they talked a little more about other things. Greta got a little perceptive of how things of the present day varied from the 1940's. Steve was actually surprised she asked him. Most people he talked with about the past got bored. Tony even commented that it made him sound like an old man.

Greta was more than fascinated. She had always admired the forties, though she wouldn't tell Steve it had been her grandfather that had piqued her interest. She was just happy to spend time with him. It was nice.

After they finished dessert, Steve replaced the blindfold on Greta and led her out into a car. Greta laughed, started to like being guided around.

"Now where are you taking me?"

"Relax, it's all part of the surprise," Steve said, gripping her hand.

"Really? Cause that dinner was enough," Greta insisted. She still couldn't believe she had managed to eat all that food for dinner. "I still can't believe you let me have that sorbet."

"You were enjoying yourself. It was my pleasure. Though I wish–"

"Don't start about the bill again!" Greta scolded. "It's only fair I pay for half. The deed is done, so you can stop it, okay?"

"All right. Far be it from me to argue with a lady."

Greta smiled. "Good. Cause you know you always loose."

Steve chuckled and squeezed her hand. The drive was a little longer than from the airport. Wherever he was taking her, it must have been pretty amazing.

"Are we there yet?" Greta asked. She patience was slowly beginning to give out.

"Just a little longer. Trust me, it'll be worth it once you see the view."

"Good lord! What are you doing, taking me dancing under the moonlight or something?"

"You know I'm not the best dancer," Steve joked. "Though there may be some moonlight, if we're lucky."

The car finally stopped. Steve got out first and opened Greta's door. She gave him her hand and began another game of follow the leader. This time her surroundings were much different. The chill on her skin indicated they were outside and she could hear many more people, meaning they were near a large crowd, possibly several crowds. When Steve paused, he grabbed ahold of her other hand.

"Now, this time we'll go a little slower," he said. "We have a few steps to climb and I don't want you tripping."

"Steps? As in stairs?" Greta questioned. She tested her footing and found the dreaded steps. "Just how many we talking here?"

Steve laughed instead of answering her. They began the climb. After the first two flights, Greta was ready to drop. She never liked stairs that much. Unfortunately, Greta fell for a man who enjoyed exercising. She wanted to drop when she felt him drag her up another flight of stairs. She was out of breath when she reached the top.

"Seriously, what is wrong with you?" she said. "You're like a machine."

"Sorry, but I wanted to get us up here before we lost the light." Steve released her hands and moved behind her. "I think you're really gonna like this, Greta."

This time when the blindfold was removed, an entirely different sight met her eyes. Before her was a Greek-like temple surrounded by columns. The interior housed a lone statue of a solitary figure sitting in contemplation. Above it read the words:

IN THIS TEMPLE  
AS IN THE HEARTS OF THE PEOPLE  
FOR WHOM HE SAVED THE UNION  
THE MEMORY OF ABRAHAM LINCON  
IS ENSHRINED FOREVER

Greta felt her heart racing. She ran out of the building, stoping when she reached the edge. She looked out past the stairs and crowds of people. Her eyes found a long and large rectangular pool with a large obelisk at the end. She couldn't believe it. The obelisk was non other than the famed Washington Monument, making the pool the Reflecting Pool. She was standing on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial.

"What are we doing here?" she asked, looking around.

"Thought you'd enjoy the view," Steve said, taking in the sight. "The Lincoln Memorial is beautiful at dusk. You can't see it from my new apartment, so I thought I'd bring you here to enjoy it."

Greta turned around, her eyes wide with shock. "New apartment?"

"Yeah, that's what I wanted to tell you…" Steve rubbed the back of his neck. "S.H.I.E.L.D. has reassigned me so I'll be living in D.C. for now. It's a bit of a distance, but I can come and visit on occasion when they don't have an assignment for me."

"Y-You… You brought me here…to tell me that?"

"I know, it's a little sudden," he explained. "S.H.I.E.L.D. wants me working with the counter-terrorism division. It's a good opportunity."

"How long?" By this time, her voice was void of emotion.

"I don't know how long I'll be stationed here," Steve said, unaware of her change in demeanor. "I leave tomorrow. I was supposed to leave a week ago, but I asked for an extension so I'd have a chance to spend some time with you and the others before I left."

"Were you always planning on telling me today?"

Steve was about to answer but stopped. Greta wasn't looking at him anymore.

"Greta, please, tell me what's wrong?" Steve asked. He took a step closer to her. "I thought you'd be a little excited."

"Excited? You seriously thought I'd be _excited_ about this?!" She turned to face him, and her expression surprised Steve. Her eyes were fired with an anger he hadn't seen since Loki left Lithia. He never thought that kind of rage would be directed at him. However, this was by far worse as her eyes not only her fury, but were also spilling over with tears.

"Greta, are you all right?"

"I didn't think you'd be this stupid." She turned to fully face him, her expression never wavering. "What, I thought your S.H.I.E.L.D. access allowed you to do background checks."

"What?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot. You would never look into a person's personal file, right" she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Then again, if you had, maybe then you wouldn't have brought me to the one place I never wanted to go back to again!"

"What are you talking about?"

"You MORON!" she shouted. "You knew you were leaving and waited until the day before you leave to tell me. What is wrong with you?! I mean, seriously, who does that! And to top it off, you had to bring me here. _Here_ , of all places!"

"I don't understand. Why are you upset?"

"SHUT UP!" Her breathing labored and she was on the edge of another meltdown. Her whole body was shaking. "You had no right, Steve. No damn right! God, I can't believe I was so stupid to think I could trust you."

Steve tried to reach for her but she smacked his hand away. He winced. Her hand would have a bruise from the she'd hit him.

"Don't you dare touch me!" she shouted. "I don't want to be near you. I can't even look at you right now!"

By this time, they had started drawing a crowd. Before, people had ignored what they assumed was a lovers quarrel, but when someone pointed out that the man was the famed Captain America, many flocked to see what was going on. Steve noticed the attention they were drawing.

"Greta, please, let's talk about this somewhere more private," he pleaded. He needed to get them out of the public eye before someone put the spectacle on the internet. The last thing he wanted was for Greta to be embarrassed. Besides, this was a personal matter they should talked about alone. Maybe once they were alone they could talk things through more rationally. "We'll go back to the plane and try to talk things out," he suggested. "I get the transfer is sudden, but–"

"You really don't get it, do you?" Greta seethed. "This has nothing to do with the fucking transfer! That I could've forgiven. But what I can't forgive is the fact that you brought me to Washington D.C. to tell me you're leaving. And you did it at the fucking Lincoln Memorial? On Veteran's Day?!" Her face was stained in tears and she had to close them to catch her breath.

"What does that have to do with any of this?" Steve asked. "Please, tell me."

"I thought you'd understand…" she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I guess that's what I get for opening up to someone I thought I could trust."

"You can trust me," Steve pleaded. "Just tell me what I did wrong, and I'll make it up to you."

"NO!" she shouted, eyes snapping open. "You crossed a line, Steve. Just stay away from me."

Greta turned on her heel and ran. She stopped at the stairs and removed the heels. She chucked them to the side and raced down the stairs, avoiding the people along the way. Steve barely had a chance to think. When he realized what happened, she had already slipped into the crowd.

"Greta! Greta, come back!" But it was too late. He lost her in the sea of people. Steve ran the entire area of the Lincoln Memorial three times, but there was no sign of her. Her reaction to the news had been a complete shock. He figured she might not take the news of him leaving well, but for her to scream and then run out on him made no sense.

An hour past but still no sign of Greta. Steve began to panic. He had tried calling her cell, but there was no response. He remembered that phones nowadays had special GPS tracking. He could find her that way. Only, he had no idea how it worked.

Pulling out his phone, he dialed the number of the one person he could think of to help him.

 _Hello?_

"Tony, is that you?"

 _No, this is Lithia. Tony and Pepper took Evangeline to a movie. It's just me and Loki at the house._

"Sorry but I need to talk to Tony," Steve said.

 _Well, what's the problem, Spangles?_ Lithia asked, her tone slightly annoyed. _You know, I can basically anything he can._

This wasn't good. He hadn't wanted to tell Lithia about his fallout with Greta, but it appeared the universe was not on his side tonight. "Greta's gone and I can't find her anywhere," he said.

 _What?!_

"I told her that I was being transferred to Washington D.C. and she didn't take the news very well."

 _Well, duh! That kind of thing isn't exactly what a girl wants to hear,_ Lithia berated. _Natasha told us at the party. Seriously, you should've told her much sooner. Like, tell her the day you find out._

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. "I realize that. Can you find her or not?"

 _Give me two minutes,_ Lithia said. _Okay, you're on speaker now. I'm having J.A.R.V.I.S. check for her signal, but knowing how mad she must be, she would have it off. However, I might be able to hack the system and get a general idea of where she went._

"Are you using the restricted S.H.I.E.L.D. database again?" Steve questioned.

 _…_ _Maybe…_ The connection went silent for a moment. The only thing Steve could make out was a steady clicking. _Okay, looks like I got something. The phone is on the move, but that doesn't mean Greta didn't dump it somewhere to throw us off track. It'll take some digging but I should be able to get a better reading soon._

"That's good to hear."

 _Hey, while I've got you, there's something I gotta ask. The scanners are picking up that Greta's phone is in Washing D.C. but that's impossible. Greta would never set foot there._

"Lithia, we are in D.C."

 _WHAT?! Why the hell are you in D.C.?!_ Lithia shouted. _Natasha said you were being transferred there, so I knew Greta would be pissed, but I didn't think you'd actually take her there. What were you thinking?!_

"What's wrong with Washington D.C.?" he asked. "When I told Tony, he thought bringing her here was the best way to tell her. He found the restaurant and made the arrangements to bring us to the Lincoln Memorial after dinner so I could tell her."

 _Crap! I knew I should've checked where Tony was sending you._ He could hear Lithia groaning over the phone. _Listen Steve, you didn't know, but the reason Greta never sets foot in D.C.—and why I never asked Greta to do_ anything _on Veterans's Day—is because her dad died there._

Steve blood went cold. His grip tightened on the phone as he listened to Lithia continue. "What did you just say?"

 _It was before her dad's unit was getting reassigned, the day after Veteran's Day,_ Lithia explained. _Greta and her dad were gonna spend the day together at the Smithsonian Museum. They were passing by the Lincoln Memorial when they got into a crash._

"A car had run a red light and Greta's father threw her from the bike…" Steve finished. "He died before the ambulance reached the hospital."

 _Yeah, exactly. Wait, how'd you know?_

"Greta told me before we left," he explained, feeling about as low as a person could feel. "Well, she didn't tell me everything exactly, but I should have asked her more about it. I didn't even… I should've… Damn! I thought bringing her to D.C. would make breaking the news easier."

 _Hey, hey. Easy Steve,_ Lithia said. _You didn't know. It was an honest mistake._

"No, I should've known better. Now she's run off and I've no way of finding her."

 _Hey, don't say that. We'll find her. If nothing else, I can have Loki do a mind scan for her._

 _I would prefer to be left out of this matter_ , Loki called out.

 _Hey! She's my best friend. You'll help._

 _If the Solider of America made a mistake, he must learn to face the consequences_ , Loki replied. _I should know. Though from the sound of things, he almost makes what I did sound harmless._

 _Don't be playing the Blame Game, buster!_

"No, Lithia, Loki make a point," Steve interrupted. There was a unison of gasps heard over the phone. "Yeah, I'm surprised to hear it myself. Yet it is still true. I'm the one who hurt Greta, and I'm the one who has to make it right."

 _That may prove difficult_ , Loki stated. _Given my experience, Greta is not the type to forgive_ _easily. No matter how you may plead, she will not listen._

 _Oh, point made,_ Lithia added. _Plus, aren't you're supposed to report to S.H.I.E.L.D. in the morning?_

"What about Greta? I can't just leave her."

 _You leave finding Greta to me_ , Lithia said. _You worry about Furry coming down on you._

"But–"

I _t's non-_ _negotiable_ _. Now, hung up and get moving, Soldier,_ she ordered. _I gotta get to work._ The line went dead after that.

Steve sighed. This was ridiculous. He should be out there looking for Greta. He was the one who needed to fix this. Yet, they had made a point. There was no way Greta would listen to him. The basic truth was that he had deeply hurt Greta. Even if it was unintentional. He could plead his case all he wanted but it was doubtful that she would listen to him. Perhaps she would forgive him, but it would not be today.

 **XXX**

Far off on the outskirts of town sat a quiet little house. The current resident sat in front of the television set. He was an elderly man in his early nineties. White hair covered his aging head, matching the scruff on his chin. He had the television on, though he was hardly watching it. That wasn't even due to the fact he was blind in one eye. He just wasn't invested in the news report. It was some pretty-boy reporter talking about some hotshot scientist in New York or Hollywood. He could care less. It was just background noise anyway. Outside he could hear the steady _pitter-patter_ of the rain. It helped relax him and he began to doze off.

 _Knock, knock._

"Shit…" he grumbled. He took out the golden pocket watch from his breast pocket and checked the time. "Who the hell comes knocking at 2:00 am in the morning?"

 _Knock, knock, knock._

"I'm coming!" he yelled. He shut the TV off and rolled his wheelchair to the front door. He grabbed a large sawed-off shotgun from the cabinet. When he got to the door, he readied his gun.

"Didn't anyone teach you read?" he called out. "Sign says trespassers will be shot, and survivors will be shot twice."

"Open the door, old man, or I'll have your tired old ass hauled off to the nursing home."

"What the devil?" He set the gun in his lap and checked the peephole. The sight of the person outside caused him to do a double-take. He removed his thick glasses, rubbed the lenses on his shirt, and checked again. Nope, his trifocals weren't deceiving him. He set the gun against the wall and undid the locks. When he opened the door, a young girl stood there. Her shoes were missing, and her hair and dress were plastered to her body from the rain. Her makeup had run, but it was her red-rimmed eyes that caught his attention first.

"Hey Granddad," Greta said, her voice raw and gravely. "Sorry, meant to call you first, but I threw my phone in front of a semi-truck."

"Holy shit! What the hell happened to you?" He looked her over again. "You look like something the damn cat dragged in last week. Only that thing had more life."

A weak smile pulled at Greta's lips. "Really bad day, Granddad," she said.

"I can see that," he said, moving to the side. "Now get your little rump in here. The old witch will hex me good if you catch a pneumonia or something. You come on in and I'll crank the heat. Should have some of your gran's clothes you can borrow."

"Thanks. It's good to be back." Greta sighed. It had taken hours to reach this place. Her body was exhausted, physically and emotionally. "If it's alright with you, Granddad, I'd like to take a bath and get to bed. I really wanna forget today ever happened."

"I can see that." The old man watched her as she enter the home. "What the hell you doing running around in weather like this? Matter of fact, what're you doing in D.C.?" he asked. "Not that I ain't happy to see you, little nipper, but today ain't exactly your favorite day to be about."

Greta stepped into the house, grateful to be out of the pouring ran. She waited until her grandfather closed the door before turning back to him. Against her will, a fresh set of tears spilled from her eyes. She collapsed against the older man, her body worn out from the emotional strain. She felt her grandfather gather her into his arms. He held her tight, placing one hand on the back of her head while the other rubbed her back.

"Oh, little nipper. Who done and hurt my little girl?" he asked. "You just give me the name, and I'll show him what happens when you wrong the family of Ernest Gregory Carthrow."

"Nobody, Granddad," she whispered.

"Bullshit, and you know it. Now, give me the name."

Greta bit her lip. Despite how furious she was, she did not want to sully the image of the American Hero who had saved her grandfather's life. She wouldn't do that to him. No, for now, she would keep it to herself. She could always tell him when he lost his high approval of Steve diminished.

 _That should be about, oh, never,_ Greta thought bitterly. _Everything had been going so well too. I really thought he… He saw how much it hurt, and how hard it was to talk about my dad. Even talking with Lithia hadn't been as hard to talk to as Steve._ _But, when broke down like that and he held me, I really thought I'd be okay. If only we could've stayed like that._

"We'll talk later," her grandfather whispered. "Come on. Let's get you that bath and bed. Your gran always said a warm place to rest the head always did a body good."

Greta nodded. She really did want to sleep. Her grandfather was right. She needed to rest and let her heart heal after all she had been through.

Besides, her problems with Steve could wait until another day.

 **The End**

* * *

 **AN:** I know, I'm horrible. In my defense, the song at the top was a clue that this would not end well. Don't worry though, things won't stay this way. However, the next installment won't happen till a certain _Winter Soldier_ fic is published. I hope you enjoy this story and please leave a review.


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